


Of Chocolate and Chick Flicks

by Amy_de_lABC



Category: Supernatural
Genre: But Only Secretly, Chick-Flick Moments, Dean Winchester Loves Chick-Flicks, F/M, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 15:04:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16286819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amy_de_lABC/pseuds/Amy_de_lABC
Summary: Imagine convincing Dean to watch a chick-flick with you.





	Of Chocolate and Chick Flicks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SoulofaWinchester67](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulofaWinchester67/gifts).



> This was a birthday fic for SoulofaWinchester67, my favorite Dean!girl and twin!

Coming home with your arms full of groceries, you dumped them on the table in the library and sighed in relief at the disappearance of the weight. _Much better_ , you thought, and smiled as you pulled a bag from the pile. It was time to indulge your guilty pleasure.

Bag in hand, you went to the kitchen and opened it, spilling popcorn seeds into a pan. As you waited for them to pop, your thoughts slipped to the place they most liked to go, and you found yourself daydreaming about Dean--his voice, rough but so gentle, complimenting you; his eyes sparkling green and gold as he looked into yours; his lips, parted into that perfect shape, getting closer and closer to your own...

_POP! Poppoppoppop! Pop!_

You jumped a mile as the popcorn intruded on your daydream, and glared at it as if it were to blame. After a second, when your heart stopped tumbling around in your chest, you found it in you to relax, and even grin a bit at your own foolishness. It was hard, being in love with someone who you knew would never notice you that way. But at least the two of you were friends, and you could deal with that. Better to be his friend and relied-upon hunting partner than not to be around him at all. Even if...

 _Pop POP poppoppop!_ the popcorn insisted, as though desperate to get your attention, and you sighed, giving up on thoughts of Dean. Which, really, was probably a good thing. Waiting until your snack stopped shouting at you, you pulled it off the heat and dumped it into a bowl, preparing it just the way you liked it, and then took it to your room. There, you curled up on your bed, sliding a DVD into your computer and smiling as it began to play.

"Y/N?" You startled violently for the second time that day, though this time it was due to an actual _person_ , at least. You looked up at Dean, trying to be annoyed that he'd interrupted you, but it wasn't much good, and you gave up after a second. You were about to answer when you realized that your movie was still playing, and you quickly slammed the computer shut.

"Yeah, what's up?" you asked, as casually as you could, cursing yourself for being so obvious. Where was your Slytherin subtlety?

Dean cocked a brow, looking alarmingly like Cas as he stepped into your room. "Just wondered what you were up to," he said, and took another step, eyeing the computer. "Whatcha watching?"

"Oh--nothing. I mean, just something I found in the store. It looked interesting," you replied, nudging the case further under the covers of your bed. Unfortunately, Dean caught the movement, and, with a triumphant smile, he pounced. There was a brief scuffle, but it ended with Dean getting a glimpse of the case, and looking at you with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

"Really?" he asked, and shook his head in mock disappointment. "Y/N, how could you? Watching a chick flick?"

Defensively, you hid the case behind your back, even though it was clearly too late. "I can watch whatever I want." Still, you hadn't missed the twinkle in his eyes, and it reassured you a little.

"I thought I taught you better than that, Padawan."

"Shuddup," you grumbled, dropping the case and crossing your arms. "Just because you don't like chick flicks doesn't mean I have to agree."

"But we have such similar tastes!" he protested with a grin. "How was I s'posed to know that you'd betray me like this?"

You rolled your eyes and tried to hold back a smile of your own. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. You don't like what I'm watching, you can go away."

"Oh, no," he said, plopping down on the bed beside you (and nearly giving you a heart attack in the process). "If you're watching it, I'm watching it, just so I can prove to you how awful it is."

" _Deeeeeean_ ," you complained. "I don't want to sit here listening to you talk through the movie!"

"Fine. I'll only talk afterwards."

You sighed. You still weren't sure you wanted to hear him disparage your favorite chick flick, but the lure of spending time with him was too great to ignore. "Fine."

"Fine."

Opening the computer back up, you pretended not to see Dean as he took a huge handful of your popcorn and copied your posture, leaning back against the headboard. Instead, you re-propped your pillow and rested your head against it, and were about to hit the Play button when Dean said, "Hey, hold up! I forgot something." Before you could answer him, he had disappeared, and you waited impatiently until he came back holding up a bag of your favorite, hard-to-find chocolate. You blinked at him, surprised, and he shrugged as he sat down and handed it to you. "Found it on my last supply run and forgot to give it to you," he explained.

"Oh. Um... wow, thanks," you replied, unsure what to say. This was exactly the kind of gesture he always made, and when he did, you never found it any easier to quash the part of you that hoped... but no. No, he didn't care about you that way. You only wished he did. He was just being a friend--after all, if you'd found something that _he_ liked, you might've bought it for him. Then again, that was a bad example. You'd use Sam instead--sure, you would buy Sam a book he liked or something if you found it and knew he wanted it. In any case, though, it was a sweet thing for Dean to have done, so you smiled at him and repeated, "Thanks."

He had been looking at you a bit oddly, and for a second you almost panicked--had he figured you out?--but then the strange expression vanished, and he replied with a smile and a slightly gruff, "Sure, no problem," waving a hand in the air. "Now are you gonna start that movie?"

Realizing for the first time that you were exposing him to a chick flick--and by his choice, too! The ultimate teasing opportunity!--you smirked and nodded.

* * *

You woke later, alert enough to suspect that something was not quite right, though your groggy mind couldn't quite place it. Deciding it didn't seem important, you snuggled more closely into the warm surface supporting you, sighed drowsily, and nearly went back to sleep. Then you felt your pillow move, and frowned. Pillows didn't move... Blinking your eyes open again, you found that said pillow was gray, with plaid all around it--and there, it moved again! How strange... wait a minute. Plaid?

Sitting up suddenly, eyes widening, you found yourself looking into Dean's face, and your cheeks reddened. He smiled reassuringly at you, though you almost thought he was blushing slightly, as well.

"Mornin', sunshine," he teased, making your flush deepen.

"Dean--I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--"

"Fall asleep?" He waved a hand again. "No worries, Y/N. You were tired. And I've been told I'm a good pillow," he added with a smirk.

You groaned. "You're never gonna let this go, are you?" you asked, though it was more or less rhetorical.

"Nope." He popped the 'P' and grinned at you.

Sighing, you ran a hand through your hair, wondering just how bad it looked. "What time is it?"

"Eleven," he responded, and you blinked. You must have been more tired than you'd realized--you'd slept for at least three hours! What was more, you were now wide awake.

"Well, that's helpful," you muttered, and sighed again.

Dean looked at you, raising a brow in question.

"I'm completely awake now," you informed him.

He nodded, looking thoughtful for a moment before he asked, "You wanna do something, then? Go for a drive, maybe?"

You brightened immediately at that. "Sure." You were always up for being in his Impala, even if you were only a passenger.

"Great. I'll get Baby out; you get a coat."

"What do I need a coat for?" you asked with a frown, and he grinned. "Didn't say we were just driving, did I?"

"What else?"

His grin widened. "You'll see." And he wouldn't say any more, however much you pestered and poked at him. You even tried to bribe him with pie, at which he seemed to almost give in, but then told you he could make his own pie. So you gave up, grabbing your coat and then following him out to the car, still hounding him to tell you where you were going.

* * *

Dean lay back on the hood of the car, his cheeks flushed with the February chill, lips moving as he silently named stars. His attention was caught by movement, and he looked over at you, a smile blossoming on his face as he considered your perfect features, which were currently turned upward, your eyes bright and wondering.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, his voice low, just a hint of Southern accent twanging in his words, as it did whenever he was feeling particularly emotional.

You turned to him, mildly surprised by the sudden question, and smiled as you took in his face. "Just having a Cas moment--thinking the stars are really pretty tonight."

He grinned. "You do sound like Cas. Or that stupid Hallmark movie we watched."

"Shuddup," you complained, giving his shoulder a shove. "And it wasn't a Hallmark movie."

"Sounded like one." Dean shrugged. "And that's the way you sound. 'Oh, the stars are so beautiful tonight!'" he mocked in a high-pitched voice, and then, at a lower pitch, "'Not as beautiful as you.'" He snickered, but his eyes were lit.

"Well, then, I guess you know what you're supposed to say next," you teased, elbowing him.

You expected him to give you a snarky answer. Instead, his eyes searched your face for a moment, tracing its lines, and then he flipped onto his side and sat up on his elbow. When he spoke next, his voice seemed full of a hidden meaning, something just under the surface that you couldn't quite manage to find. " _Very_ beautiful." And then his hand had risen and was cupping your cheek, his thumb tracing your jaw.

You froze, unprepared for quite this level of acting, and then tried on a weak grin. "Just like that, yep!" Was your voice higher-pitched than usual?

Dean was still caressing your face, and seemed to have no inclination to stop. "And then," he said softly, "the romantic music would start, and I would lean closer...like this..." He demonstrated, slowly and--if you didn't know better, you would have said tenderly. "And your eyes would close...and then..."And now he was whispering right near your lips, so close you could feel his warm breath blowing over them, and you shivered, fighting every instinct that was screaming for you to move just a bit nearer. "...then...I would just lean forward...and..."

He was kissing you. _Dean Winchester_ was _kissing you_. For a split second, your mind was a jumble of confusion, but then his lips coaxed a response out of yours, and one of your hands went up to rest on the back of his neck, pulling him closer; he obliged, and there was something in his kiss that made you almost want to cry, it was so gentle and poignant.

And it was over. He had pulled back, and was looking at you with eyes alight, a soft smile trembling at his lips.

"Then the credits would roll," he murmured, "and all the chicks in the audience would be sighing and thinking how cute we are."

"Yeah..." You grinned up at him. "But hey, we don't need validation, right? I mean, we know how cute we are already."

" _You're_ cute," he corrected with a teasing grin in return. " _I'm_ adorable."

You just laughed, and he bent down to kiss you again.

"So," you mused when he had let you go, "let me see if I have this right. Dean Winchester just used a chick flick to flirt with me."

"Oh, no. That wasn't the flirting part. The flirting was earlier, when I got you chocolate."

Suddenly something clicked into place, and you stared at him. "That was you trying to flirt--? Dean, you--you complete romantic! You bought me chocolate!"

He shuddered, as if you'd insulted him. "Hey, no using the 'R' word!"

"You are!"

"Only when I've got a beautiful woman to impress." His eyes were twinkling, but there was still tenderness in them.

"Flatterer." You pushed him again, and he just grabbed you and kissed you.

"Am not," he mumbled against your lips. "Besides, you never said you didn't like it."

"Yeah, well..." You shrugged, but you were too busy kissing him back to think of a good reply.

When he pulled away again, you sighed happily and entwined your fingers with his, cuddling against him. There was a short, soft silence, before he asked, "What're you thinking now?"

"More Hallmark movie stuff," you answered with a grin. "I don't think you want to hear it."

"Aw, I think I can handle it," he responded. "After all, I watched that dumb movie with you."

You ignored the gibe at your movie, smiling up at him and brushing his cheek. "Just thinking how lucky I am to have you."

"Not as lucky as I am," Dean retorted, his own grin wide and happy.

"Now who sounds like a chick flick?"

"Well, that was the point."

You snorted and relaxed, closing your eyes. "So, does this mean you don't object to chick flicks anymore?"

"In your dreams," he returned, running fingers through your hair. "And I'm not watching them with you anymore, either!"

"Aww..." You pretended to be upset, looking up at him and pouting. "C'mon, not even sometimes?"

"Nope."

"Not even if I made you pie?"

"Nope."

"Not even if I bought you chocolate?"

"Nope."

"Not even... for a kiss?"

For the first time, he paused, seeming to consider that. Then, "You offering?"

You giggled, feeling light and happy. "And if I am?"

He sighed dramatically. "I'll think about it."

* * *

By the end of the night, he owed you seventy-nine chick flicks and counting.


End file.
